


To Feel, To Know

by orphan_account



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton-centric, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Winterhawk Fic Exchange, pathetic attempts at sign language (all my fault), slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton is born with a soulmark, which is considered an oddity in itself. It’s cold a majority of the time, and sometimes it magically picks up enough static electricity to startle him. These attributes aren’t considered rare, as soulmates are able to sense what the other is feeling, but it is rare for soulmarks to fade in and out of existence the way Clint’s does.</p><p>He doesn't pay it much mind anymore, since he's read all the studies and memorized a majority of them. Whatever Clint's soulmate does, it's dangerous and gets them close to dying for years at a time. It's the only theory out there that seems to fit his situation. After a soulmate's death, the soulmark disappears; so either Clint has had numerous soulmates with the same mark and they've all died (which is just depressing), or his soulmate toes the edge of existence, which sounds a lot more plausible considering all he's been through lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Feel, To Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EVVS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVVS/gifts).



> Happy fic exhange! I actually had my suspicions about who my recipient was, and I was correct!  
> Please let me know if there's any grammatical mistakes. I'm running on 3 hours of sleep, and I'm just shit at editing in general.
> 
> Soulmate AU physiology: when physically close to soulmate, your marks warm up. Soulmarks indicate romantic bonds, doesn't guarantee a healthy relationship. Soulmark fades away upon soulmate's death. It is possible to feel sensations through soulmark when one is overwhelmed but a certain sensation (including temp., pain, emotions). Soulmarks developers when mate turns 10 years old. Not everyone develops soulmarks.

No one really knows the exact science behind soulmarks, but the operative theory that scientists have developed is that a person does not develop a soulmark until their soulmate turns ten years old. This theory is based on surveys conducted over twenty years focusing on relationships involving matched soulmates.

Clint Barton is born with a soulmark, which is considered an oddity in itself. It’s cold a majority of the time, and sometimes it magically picks up enough static electricity to startle him. These attributes aren’t considered rare, as soulmates are able to sense what the other is feeling, but it is rare for soulmarks to fade in and out of existence the way Clint’s does.

He doesn't pay it much mind anymore, since he's read all the studies and memorized a majority of them. Whatever Clint's soulmate does, it's dangerous and gets them close to dying for years at a time. It's the only theory out there that seems to fit his situation. After a soulmate's death, the soulmark disappears; so either Clint has had numerous soulmates with the same mark and they've all died (which is just depressing), or his soulmate toes the edge of existence, which sounds a lot more plausible considering all he's been through lately.

He has seen and fought gods and sentient robots, teamed up with science experiments (gone right and gone wrong), met mutants, and witnessed resurrection first hand. He knows better than to question what the world throws at him.

So he doesn't question it when it stays on his skin for months. He doesn't question when he brushes it with his thumb and the feeling lingers, almost as if someone's hand is still resting on his ankle. He pauses, notes it, then shrugs and gets on with his life. He's got too much to deal with in his life without worrying about finding his soulmate, thank you very much. There's SHIELD missions to do, new Avengers to train, and a world to save (again and a-futzing-gain).

Besides, he's not entirely sure if he wants to meet his soulmate. It's not a one size fits all thing, which he learned at an early age from watching his parents.

He's got enough weirdness going on, he thinks as he watches the Avengers jet land outside. It’s 3 p.m. on a Wednesday, and he didn’t know what was going on. Not that that meant much. After Sokovia, Natasha’s been distant to him, spending more time with Steve and Sam, Tony is busy with Pepper and Stark Industries, Thor is on Asgard, Bruce is still missing, and the three newbies are still focusing on themselves than the others.

“What’s going on?” Wanda asks, as she enters the room. Out of all the new Avengers, she’s been the most open with him, if not the rest of the team, which isn’t saying much because she’s still almost always quiet and unapproachable outside of training. The fact that she’s even talking to him is a bit surprising. Their friendship, bond, whatever, has mostly been comprised of silent acknowledgments and advice during training. She doesn’t get an uncertain look in her eye when she walks into a room and sees him like she does with the others. Clint understands the feeling and tries to accommodate her as much as possible, even when he notices how Pietro gets upset over it.

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Friday, who took out the jet?”

“Rogers, Romanoff, and Wilson took the jet approximately five hours ago. They landed in Virginia four hours ago, and are returning with a fourth passenger.” The voice pauses for a second. “Captain Rogers has asked for everyone to gather in the entry room, so they may introduce everyone.”

He looks over at Wanda and shrugs. “Looks like we’re getting a new team member.”

In less than a minute, Pietro and Vision join them, watching the four make their way over from the jet. They watch the familiar forms of their teammates as they walk over with the mysterious fourth person. Whoever it is has a hoodie and baseball cap on, making it impossible to see their face. Steve keeps glancing over at them, with a mixed expression that Clint can’t decipher. There’s tension and relief, but there’s more he doesn’t recognize.

Clint’s nervous. If Cap’s anxious about something, then there’s reason to worry. Their team leader is almost always certain, in both words and actions. Whatever’s going on with the new person is something Cap’s not sure if they can face and accept. Clint desperately wants his bow, to feel its solid and certain weight in his fingers and know that he can get through this. He can face whatever Cap’s about to drop on them and live with it, he can survive and do what needs to be done, if not for himself then for the others.

Pietro and Wanda are standing close to each other, murmuring in their native Romanian, no doubt coming to the same conclusion as him. Pietro’s bouncing quickly, the only real hint of the movement being the sound of his heels repeatedly hitting the ground. There’s small sparks of red at the edges of Wanda’s nails.

Clint wants to reassure them that it’ll be okay, but he can’t bring himself to say meaningless platitudes. They’re the children of the team, but they’re still Avengers and they’re all going to have to deal with this.

Vision remains quiet and unassuming as he hovers towards the center of the room. _Creepy robot_ , Clint thinks.

It seems like forever until the door finally opens and the two groups join together. The stranger stays a bit back, their face still covered completely.

Nat catches Clint’s eye and nods but keeps her expression blank. They’re okay, but she’s not going to give anything away to him before Steve’s ready to tell them.

“Thanks, Friday.” Steve says as he looks up at the ceiling. “Tony and Thor still aren’t around?”

“No Captain.”

“Well,” Steve sighs. “Guess we’ll have to go through this twice after all.” He glances back at the stranger before turning his attention back to Clint, Wanda, Pietro, and Vision.

“I’d like to thank you all for actually coming and I want to apologize for keeping you all out of the loop.” He’s using his Captain voice, even though he’s looking at them openly, as if they’re all friends. He makes eye contact with every single one of them before continuing. “But due to the nature of what we were doing, we figured it best that the less people involved, the better.  Last year, SHIELD fell, partially due to Hydra, but also partially due to us. Sam, Natasha and I encountered the Winter Soldier, and the truth behind his identity, was a shock to me. The Winter Soldier was, no, is, my best friend Bucky Barnes.”

Before he can continue, the stranger is slammed back against the wall by red light.

Everyone turns to look at Wanda, and Clint notices that even Pietro looks a little shocked by his sister.

“Wanda –” He tries to say, but she cuts him off.

“No.” She turns to look at Steve. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Captain, but are you saying that you brought the Winter Soldier here?”

“Yes. Is that an issue, Maximoff?” His hands are at his sides and he’s tenser than before. Clint’s still reeling from his words, and the fact that Nat hadn’t told him that she was searching for the man that had early killed her. Her eyes betray nothing when he looks at her. Well, at least it sort of makes sense.

“Who do you think they’d bring in to kill the kids that weren’t considered strong enough? Who do you think shot at Pietro to make sure he’d be ready to dodge bullets? Who do you think they set me up against to see if I could take you down? Who do you think they sent in to punish us?” She’s barely holding onto her rage, her hair floating as the red energy takes over her eyes and surrounds her and Pietro like a forcefield. The light holding down the Winter Soldier reaches up and rips off his hood and baseball cap before sucking in a breath.

The man before them looks terrible. His hair is long and in desperate need of a trim and wash. There are dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and he looks upset. “I’m sorry.” He rasps. His throat isn’t being held, so there’s a good chance that it’s been a while since he last drank or ate something. “I remember. I didn’t understand, but that doesn’t excuse it. I’m sorry for everything.”

The words freeze everyone again. Wanda’s hair falls and the red energy surrounding her disappears, although the red energy holding the Winter Soldier doesn’t fall away. Pietro is stuck glancing between Steve and Wanda. The Soldier, Bucky, maintains eye contact with Wanda, and Clint can’t tell what he’s trying to convey. It’s open, but unreadable, an expression he often finds on Natasha when she’s reflecting on her time with the Red Room. Troubling.

It feels like half an hour passes in complete silence. Finally Wanda nods. “I know they did terrible things, and not just to us. I do not trust you, yet. But you never showed emotion before. So I will not make you live through every trauma you caused.” The red energy pressing him into the wall dissipates, and Steve visibly deflates.

“Pietro, Wanda, tha-”

“No. You asked us to trust you, to become better for you and you hid things from us. Do not thank us.” With that she storms away, once again bringing the room to silence. Pietro doesn’t follow, not yet, but everyone knows that he’ll go to her soon enough. His head is tilted, as if he’s listening to something that none of them can hear.

“She isn’t going to leave. She – we – just need time. It is hard to face someone that’s caused you pain and smile, yes? Too much has happened at his hands, even if it wasn’t actually him.”

“You two should take a break.” Clint says without even meaning to. “Serious, kid. You two have been through too much shit lately and you two deserve some down time. Not telling you to leave, but suggesting you give yourself some time to actually live without worrying about fighting.” Pietro looks taken aback. “Trust me, we all need it once in a while, and you two deserve it. “ Clint shrugs. “Your choice though.”

Pietro nods. “I think she would like that. I will let you know.” He glances at Steve before he speeds out of the room.

Sam sighs. “Alright. Well, that went splendid.”

 “Pretty sure you could’ve given us some warning before you traumatized the kids though, Cap.” Clint rolls his eyes as he makes his way over to the four humans in the room. “Clint Barton, not a fan of your work.” He says as he offers his hand to the Winter Soldier. The room feels warmer for some reason.

“James Barnes, not a fan of my work either.” He says after a minute before shaking Clint’s hand. He looks surprised and confused that Clint approached him, and is actually touching him without fear. It’s silly, because Clint is definitely scared. He’s just learned that he can’t let fear stop him from taking actions. If he does, then Loki wins, HYDRA wins, his father wins. He can’t afford to lose this endless battle.

“Not your work, Buck.” Steve says. His voice is firm, certain, but Clint knows how that can be the truth and a lie at the same time. James nods an assent only to get Steve to not lecture him. He still hasn’t let go of Clint’s hand. He feels warmer when he realizes it. It’s radiating through his body and oh, the soulmark suddenly makes sense.

But this is Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend and the Winter Soldier. He definitely needs more than what Clint can give him. So Clint pulls away and steps back, giving them all a crooked grin. “I’m sure Steve’s ready to give you the grand tour of the place.” He avoids eye contact with Nat. He’s not mad that she kept this from him. He still trusts her, but he’s always known that she has her secrets. It hurts a bit, sure, but he’s too focused on the fact that he’s just met his soulmate and he never expected this to happen.

Perhaps he’ll follow his own advice and take a break from all this.

He makes his way back to his room and falls onto the bed face first. “Futz.” He swears as he runs a hand through his hair. His life is so messed up.

It’s barely 4 p.m., but he’s decided that he’s done for the day. He doesn’t have the will power left to deal with anything today. There’s too much going on in his head for him to sleep though. There’s worry for Pietro and Wanda, some paternal instinct telling him to take care of the twins, even though he’s not really close to them. There’s the self-hatred laughing at his luck and telling him that he’ll never be good enough to actually deserve a soulmate. It whispers that Nat doesn’t trust him anymore, that she never really did trust him. There’s hope, a small whisper that things could be positive in his life and he owes it to himself (and James) to try. The hope only lasts for seconds in comparison to the self-hatred, but it’s still there.

He’s not sure what he’s going to do about this revelation. James definitely has more than enough on his plate without having to deal with a soulmate. But he has a right to know, if he hasn’t figured it out already. It doesn’t have to mean anything despite the fact that it means pretty much everything.

He’s too exhausted to come up with a plan with how to deal with this though. His brain is still a mess of thoughts and feelings. He turns on to his back, shucks off his jeans, takes out his hearing aids, and looks at his soulmark. A little red star that still feels warm. He brushes it with his thumb and laughs. Go figure that his soulmate situation would be this complex. It feels like another giant cosmic joke at his expense.

He falls asleep on top of the blankets, his shirt and underwear still on. His sleep is fitful and more of a nap than anything, but it helps center him. He’s still uncertain as to what he’s going to do, but his mind isn’t as much of a mess as before. He yawns and stretches on the bed, before getting up and making his way to the communal kitchen. He sets up the coffeemaker scratching at his jaw as he waits for it to finish and give him what he wants. Sure, it’s 8 p.m. but he’s not going to sleep for at least another ten hours now that he’s awake.

He’s going to go to the range, focus, and decide what he’s going to do about the whole James situation. He’s not sure what James knows about soulmates, if he’s even aware that the mark on him is important. For all he knows, James might not have a soulmark. HYDRA could’ve removed it, or the less depressing option that he might not have developed one. Unrequited soulmarks are rare, but oddity has always been tangled in with Clint’s life.

Once the coffee’s done, he drinks straight from the pot. It scalds his tongue and throat, but he doesn’t care; it only serves to waken him up. Once it’s half-empty, he sets it back down (Pietro will fuss at him later, but hey! Leaving out his hearing aids means he doesn’t have to actually listen to the brat) and leaves the room.

He heads to the range, deciding to practice his shots with his longbow. Lately, he’s been focusing on his recurve, since he hasn’t needed to worry about stealth, and longbow is less practical when he’s on the run. He still likes to maintain his skill in both the compound and longbow, should they be the only ones available in emergencies.

His soulmark is no longer warm, he notices as he signs into the range. It’s not cold like it used to be (and god, everything seems to make sense now; the cold, the disappearances, the static shocks, and he might just throw up.) but the proximity warmth from before has faded down to his regular body temperature. The mark acts normally for the first time in his life, looking and feeling like a tattoo instead of like its own entity.

He loves the range Tony built for him. There are platforms for him to stand on, targets that move in any direction, and varying weather simulations. He still coos and pats the targets when he gets ready to leave. It’s silly, yes, but it’s an amazing tool, and he’ll never get over it.

For now, he settles for reacquainting himself with the longbow. He puts all conditions to zero on the interactive HUD in the wall. He sets the targets to stationary, at 4.5 ft., and 100 yards away. He lets himself focus on the stretch of his muscles, the tension in the bow, and slowness of his breath as he aims and shoots again and again.

Before he realizes it, the quiver is empty and his arms are sweaty and slightly aching. He glances at the clock and sees that it’s now 10 p.m. He feels warm, but not in the way that exercising makes him feel. It’s radiating through him, and he knows this sensation.

As casually as he can manage, he looks over to the observation window. James is there, looking at the targets full of arrows.

He knows, Clint's brain whispers. He knows and it's unrequited and you're going to die alone.

Wow. Hours of progress lost instantly. Great. He really needs to start working on his self-esteem.

He waves at James, which seems to startle the man. James waves back with his right hand, before pointing at himself followed by him pointing at Clint.

With all that Clint knows, that gesture can be interpreted multiple ways and frankly he doesn't feel like stressing himself out anymore. He gestures for Bucky to enter the room, hoping he'll get more clarification when James talks.

... Except he doesn't have his hearing aids. And his phone is in his pants, which are still in his room. Futz.

Well, maybe Friday can translate for them. Friday's done it for him before, but it's always been in the more social rooms than the training rooms. He signs at the ceiling nonetheless, asking the program to help him out. A holographic screen appears in front of him with 'Of course, Agent Barton' in neat, black font.

/THANKS/, He signs before returning the longbow to its rack on the wall. The hologram trails along beside him as moves and blinks with an announcement that James is now in the room.

Clint looks over in time to see James looking up at the ceiling, no doubt listening to Friday explain its job as intermediary in their conversation.

Now that James is in front of him, Clint’s reminded again of the fact that he’s not wearing pants. Or socks, actually.  His soulmark is exposed. Thankfully it’s small and on his ankle, but still, this is awkward.

Clint decides to start off the conversation, asking him if he couldn’t sleep. Once Friday translates for him, James nods and speaks. On the hologram, the words appear.

Yeah. It’s hard for me to sleep in new places until I tour them a few times.

Clint nods. He knows that feeling all too well. Me too, he signs.

The warmth from his mark is growing, as if time spent near each other increases it. He can’t tell if James is feeling anything, which curls his stomach up in knots. Clint knows he’s staring at James, but he’s getting caught up in his head and-

Should I leave?

“No!” Clint’s aware of his mouth moving, the air moving past his lips. /SORRY/ He signs. /HERE HOT. / He nearly hits himself.

James nods. Thought it was just me. Everyone else seems perfectly fine though. Hope, glorious hope! Sure, James doesn’t seem to know what it means, that or he’s playing innocent just like Clint. Are they both just awkwardly dancing around the issue, unsure if the other knows?

He really can’t stand this. He has to know. He has to tell James and let him know, if he doesn’t already. He signs to Friday to ask James if he knows about soulmarks.

He nods slowly and even though Clint doesn’t know him well enough to read him yet, there’s a new light to his eyes. Clint turns to show off the little star before he leans down and taps it. James shudders and lifts up his left pants leg. There’s a small purple shooting target on his inner left ankle.

This is you? James asks and Clint nods.

/WE DON’T HAVE MEANING ANYTHING/ He signs. It’s up to James, really. They’re still perfect strangers, and Clint isn’t going to force him to do anything he isn’t comfortable with. James has suffered through that enough already. /NO WORRY. /

Thank you. James pauses. But I’d like to give it a try.

Clint smiles. /ME TOO. /

**3 months later**

They’re curled up together on the couch as they watch snow fall outside their window. So far it’s been mostly peaceful for them. Clint still gets called out on missions with SHIELD, but for the most part, they’ve been short and uncomplicated. James is up for approval for field action and it looks like he’ll be cleared. It’s made Clint think though, about the Winter Soldier branding.

He nudges at James and makes grabby hands towards his aids on the table. He could do this in sign language, yes, but he likes the sound of James’ voice. After James passes them over, he puts them in, turns them on and asks, “Do you ever think about getting rid of the star?” He taps on the star for clarification.

James tilts his head and thinks for a second, his arms wrapping around Clint again. “Sometimes. I did do a lot of terrible things in the name of that star.” He glances over at Clint, a small smile on his face. “But it brought you to me.”

Clint can’t help but blush at that. “Sap,” he mutters as he moves his face into the crook of James’ neck.

They curl closer and their ankles entwine, causing their marks to touch. The warmth of love explodes into Clint and his breath hitches. They’ve never done this before, and he doesn’t know why. “Oh,” He murmurs. “Kiss me.” As James obliges, Clint presses their marks together again. It’s even better the second time around.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t accept me.” James says before kissing Clint again. “That you wouldn’t want me because I’ve done horrendous things.” He holds Clint tighter with his right arm.

On good days, James is less uncertain about letting Clint touch his left arm. On bad days, he lets it hang and flinches away as soon as anyone gets close to him. He’s been having a lot more good days than bad days, but the fear that he won’t be able to control himself still rears its ugly head, causing him to shut down from the world.

It hurts Clint to see Bucky hurt himself like that, to watch him trap himself in his mind with his guilt and trauma. He understands though. Clint himself still has days where he can’t bear to get up or put his hearing aids in; he still has days where he wants to just shut down and just not exist.,

On James’ bad days, Clint will brush his soulmark, just to remind him that he can have things that he wants.

Now, in the present, Clint lets himself be pulled closer to his soulmate as he slides a hand up into James’ hair. “That’d be pretty damned hypocritical of me.” He reminds James. “I wasn’t sure if you knew what the mark meant, or if you even had one. I thought –” He shudders and kisses James again, not wanting to give voice to that messed up part of his mind that insists that he should never had had a soulmate, that he should’ve been forced to watch James go to someone else and be happy there. We’re together, and we’re happy. Clint reminds himself as James slides his metal hand down Clint’s back to grab at his hips. We’re together. He’s mine, and I’m his.

“I remember – I remember when it finally appeared and I felt you through it. You were happy, and sad, and proud, and I had no idea what was going on. But I was finally able to feel something other than pain and disconnect, and it was wonderful.” He pauses, pressing a kiss to Clint’s cheek. “You were helping me even back then.” The next kiss is on the lips, but it’s gentle and chaste, almost like he was worshipping Clint.

And that’s too much for Clint. No one’s ever touched him so gently, with so much reverence that they were afraid he would disappear if they clutched too hard. He whimpers and kisses James hard, trying to pour his entire being into the kiss as he presses their marks together again. There’s a new heat spreading throughout his body as he presses himself as tight as possible to James’ body. He can’t help but groan at the feeling of their groins rubbing against each other. They’re both hard and Clint rolls his hips, causing James to moan. Then, he gets a brilliant idea. In the middle of rolling his hips again, he presses their marks together again. It’s incredible. James shouts and falls back, his hips going up.

“Fuck. Not gonna last if you do that again, Clint.” He says as he reaches down with one hand to tug his sweatpants down.

“Maybe I don’t want you to last any longer.” Clint mutters. “C’mon James, please.” He says as he rolls his hips again, rubbing his jeans against James’ now free erection. “Wanna feel you cum.” Clint whispers as James pulls him closer again, wrapping his right leg around Clint’s waist.

James whines and tugs Clint into a kiss as they both roll their hips. This time, it’s James that rubs his soulmark across Clint’s before he halts and groans into Clint’s mouth as they both fall apart.

Clint collapses on top of James, not even worrying about his weight. He’s pretty sure his brain just melted from how amazing that orgasm was. Thankfully, James doesn’t seem concerned with anything aside from catching his breath.

In a minute, James will fuss at him that his shirt and jeans are absolutely filthy and gross. In a minute, Clint will jokingly grumble that it’s James’ fault. In a minute, they’ll pull off the rest of their clothes and hold each other. In a minute Clint will say “I love you” and in a minute, James will say it back.

In a minute.

**Author's Note:**

> Clint’s soulmark physiology: red star on right ankle. Born with it, but it fades in and out of existence over the span of months. When it's gone, he usually feels a chill from where it should be. Sometimes it shocks him, usually after it fading back into existence. Doesn't normally feel emotions from it, though he sometimes gets rage or fear. Mostly it's eerily 'quiet'.
> 
> Bucky’s soulmark physiology: they didn't notice it before they froze him but they saw it afterwards. Small target on his left ankle. Hydra assumed it would be someone working for them, so they didn't forcibly remove it.


End file.
